


Prodigal Son- The Lost Cases

by ZeroGravityBaconator



Category: Prodigal Son - Fandom
Genre: Detectives, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Psychological Thriller, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:28:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29194572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroGravityBaconator/pseuds/ZeroGravityBaconator
Summary: A collection of original murder cases headlined by the characters of Fox's Prodigal Son.
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Detective Dani Powell was seated at her desk that Monday morning, staring at a stack of paperwork as if her gaze alone could cause it to burst into flame. However, as much as the thought entertained her, the documents just stared right back at her. 

"Dani-!" A voice brought the detective back from her inner thoughts and she looked up, brown eyes meeting blue. 

"Malcolm." She greeted with a nod. "You're late." 

The eldest Whitly smiled. "No, not late. I was here very early actually." 

"Early?" 

"Yes, I've been going through old files and cold cases, just to keep busy." Malcolm explained.

"Just how early is early?" Dani scratched the back of her neck as she looked up at him, as if she already knew the answer. 

"About that-" 

"You never left." 

Malcolm simply chuckled, and it wasn't long before Dani did too. 

"Well, what did you find, overachiever?" She asked. 

"Just our older cases, from back when. Besides, don't you have paperwork to get to?" Malcolm asked glancing over at the stack of printed sheets atop Dani's desk. 

"I'm sure whatever you have to tell me is way more interesting than missing object reports." 

"Oh-ho," Malcolm smiled. "What I have to tell you is way, way more interesting." 

"Well, lay it on me," Dani said. "Let's take a trip down memory lane."


	2. Bits & Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairs of hands have been found all over New York.
> 
> A/N: I took an artistic liberty with the dates.

Date: February 7th, 2005  
Time: 07:47:02 a.m.  
Location: Bus bench on 63rd Avenue

"Amelia Twoson was on her way to the bus stop this morning," Lieutenant Gil Arroyo told his team, gesturing to a green and brown canopy that stood over a bench meant for the bus' awaiting passengers. "she said she had her coffee with her and sat down without looking. She goes to set her cup on the bench and then that is when she notices a set of severed hands sitting right next to her leg. She gets spooked, jumps up, calls 911 and that's when we show up."

"Where are the hands now?" Detective Dani Powell asked, shoving her hands into the pockets of her black, state-issued jacket. 

"They are currently on ice in my fishing cooler." Chimes in a smiling, Dr. Edrisa Tanaka, a bright red and white cooler bearing her initials on a faux-gold plaque hung from her grasp.

"Nice cooler." Detective JT Tarmel commented.

"Yes- it is rather handy." Edrisa chuckled, only to have her laugh joined by another teammates'. 

"Good pun." Said a smiling and chipper Malcolm Bright, who had just arrived on the scene. "You should start an index." 

"I will." The doctor replied, dark eyes glittering when she saw Malcolm. "I'll even make you a pinky promise."

"Guys, stop." Gil said with a crinkle in his brow. 

Then it was Dani's turn. "Yes, stop. Please." 

"Sorry, I love puns." Malcolm chuckled again as the doctor handed him the cooler, opening the attached lid and letting it slide back. 

"At least someone around here understands post-humous humor." Edrisa giggled.

"Wow," Malcolm said as he pulled out a Ziploc bag filled with ice, and you guessed it, a pair of severed hands now stiff with rigor mortis. "they are so well preserved!" 

"I know, right?" Edrisa added. "The area of detachment is a work of art. So precise, straight and not to mention, clean. No bone fragments, no stagnant blood, no puddles beneath- just skin, flesh and tendons. Even those were clean cut all the way through. Whoever did this knew what they were doing."

"Let's see- black male, maybe twenty-seven years old," Malcolm said as he looked over the palms of the hands as well as the flat tips of the fingers. "they write alot and play some kind of an instrument." 

"I notoced that too." Edrisa commented. "Some kind of wind instrument as indicated by the flattened shape of the nail bed."

"Happen to have any idea who we're looking for?" Gil asked, watching as Malcolm put the hands back into Edrisa's cooler and return it to the doctor. 

"No, but I have an idea who might be able to help." Malcolm said as he pulled out his cell phone. 

"Doctor Whitly?" Dani asked, eyebrow raised. 

Malcolm chuckled nervously, twitching his head a bit to the left. "Hehe, no- I'm talking about the owners of J-Pub." 

"J-Pub..." JT murmured, thinking. "The old bar downtown?" 

"You got it. Every night they have live music, usually jazz bands. If we can go there, find out who was playing last night, and see if any of their members never showed." Malcolm explained. 

"Then we have an I.D. and possibly a motive." Gil nodded. "Alright, JT, you know the area. You and Malcolm visit J-Pub. Dani, Edrisa and I will finish up here."

"Alright, boss." JT nodded. "Let's go, Bright." 

"You guys do know I could just do fingerprints, right?" Edrisa asked, but everyone was already leaving.

\----

Date: February 7th, 2005  
Time: 08:19:56 a.m.  
Location: J-Pub Pitches 'n Pitchers

The outside of J-Pub wasn't much to look at. Just a door built into the lower level of what looked to once be an apartment building. It would be unsurprising if the owner of the bar actually did live in the floors above. In fact, the entrance was so out-of-the-way, JT had to point it out to Malcolm when they arrived. 

"Now, just so you know," The detective told Malcolm. "I know the owner here. They don't like me much, but if I can talk just enough, I can get some information. Just keep it cool and we'll be okay."

"Why don't they like you?" Malcolm asked, confused. 

"When I was younger, I threw a baseball through their car window." 

"Oh," Malcolm nodded in understanding. "yeah, I wouldn't like you much either after that." 

"Thanks, buddy, knew you'd be on my side." JT said sarcastically before exciting the vehicle with Malcolm in tow.

Detective Tarmel opened the door after they has descended the below-ground staircase. The inside was dark and heavy with the smell of cigarettes, although no smoke was obviously visable against the dark colored furniture. 

Two velvet couches lined one wall next to the door way, while round dining tables cluttered a small space in front of a currently empty stage. Multicolored lights and two speakers framed the stage, while the curtain's tiny rhinestones twinkled under what little light the bar was giving off. The only thing actually adorning the empty space was a shining brass saxophone with tiny indentions lending shape to an intricate mix of flowers and butterflies that looked to be crawling up the side of the instrument.

"Cozy." Malcolm commented as he scanned the dark room. "And so very...purple." 

That was true enough, it seemed every surface that wasn't table, stage or bar, was colored in rich tones of purple and violet. 

"JT Tarmel in the flesh-!" Rang a voice from the kitchen, which entryway was behind the bar. 

"Elsie!" JT smiled as an elderly, but definitely not frail woman emerged wearing a flowery dress, tiny pink glasses and a wide smile. 

She walked over to hug the detective. "Oh, and you've brought a friend-! What's your name, blue eyes?" 

"Malcolm Bright, ma'am." Malcolm was a bit confused, he thought the owners didn't like JT. 

"And bright, you are, Malcolm. Just look at you-!" Elsie stepped back, coughing into her elbow. "Did you two come for some drinks? We don't officially open 'til four, but I'll make an exception for you, JT."

"No, Miss Elsie, this is a business visit." The detective replied. "Is Mr. Grayson here?" 

"'Fraid not. Eli went to go buy some replacement bulbs for the stage lights. Two went out last Wednesday, wouldn't you know it?" 

JT nodded and spoke, sounding almost relieved to hear that Eli Grayson wasn't around. "Well then, maybe you can help me?" 

Elsie turned and walked back behind the bar, waving her hand so Malcolm and JT followed, taking two seats in front of it. "What do you need to know?" 

"Firstly," Malcolm started and JT just looked at him. "I want to say that is a beautiful saxophone on the stage. Is that custom made?" 

Elsie looked to Malcolm. "You bet she is. Bought that girl at an estate sale and had her refurbished and customized. Can't play 'er no more because of my lungs, but she pretty to look at."

"Does Mr. Grayson play?" 

"That old geezer hasn't played anythin' since high school." Elsie laughed which made her cough again, this time raspier than the last. "No, we don't play anymore like we used to."

"So you have live performances in here instead?" Malcolm asked.

"Somethin' is better than nothin', Malcolm." Elsie said, her gentle smile returning. "Besides, if we weren't hostin', these jazz bands would have nowhere to play." 

"Who was playing last night?" 

"A trio called 'Swingin' Three', they were booked all week as a matter of fact. Or at least, there were three of them." 

"What does that mean?" JT asked. 

"Well, the first night went off smoothly, so did the second and third night. Now, the fourth night, one of 'em didn't even show up." Elsie explained. "Oh, the other two were madder than a couple cats in a bathtub. They are still scheduled to play tonight if you're interested."

Malcolm smiled. "Maybe we can come back. In case we don't make it, did you get their names?" 

"The tall one's name was Casey Moore, the yellow-haired lady was Missy Greene and the black boy was Curtis West. I might have their card in my purse, if you want." 

"That would be so helpful." JT said with a nod. 

"Alright, just a minute, boys." Elsie said, retreating to the kitchen. 

JT looked to Malcolm. "Well, that was way too easy." 

"Yeah, it was." He sighed. "There's got to be more to this case though. If those are Curtis West's hands, then where is the rest of him?" 

"Who's to say he's dead?" 

"Who ever did this was careful, precise. In order to get that kind of neat separation, the victim would need to be restrained, paralyzed and desensitized. Even then, the body may still twitch and writhe." 

"So you think he was murdered and then chopped up?" 

"It fits the profile." Malcolm shrugged and that was when Elsie returned, flashing a little card toward them. 

"Here you go, boys." She said. "Not as if I'll hire them again after all their bickering."

"Thank you, Miss Elsie." JT said, taking the card. 

"Yes, ma'am, thank you." Malcolm added with a smile as the two stood and turned to leave. 

"Don't be a stranger, JT-!" Elsie called as the duo left the bar. 

As they walked to the car, Malcolm looked at JT. "Should we pay the Swingin' Three a visit?" 

JT was about to answer, but then his phone rang. He took it from his pocket and looked at the screen, pressing the button to answer. "It's Dani-" He told Malcolm, bringing the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

There was a murmur on the other end. 

"What do you mean another pair?" JT asked and the murmur was repeated. 

Malcolm frowned and furrowed his brows, they knit together tightly as he listened until the detective hung up his call. 

"Well?" 

JT looked at him. "Another pair of hands have been found. This time at Central Park." 

"Alright, let's go." Malcolm said, starting to get into the car, but what JT said next stopped him. 

"And this time, they have heads." 

"Heads?!"

\----

"Marcus Abrahms, twenty-two, single. Jacob Dowling, twenty six, single." Edrisa told the detectives, gesturing to a pair of heads sitting atop a pointed fence. Each head stuck directly onto the spike of the fence. "The heads match these hands and here's your fingerprint results from the first pair." 

JT took the folder and looked. "Curtis West." He sighed, looking to Malcolm. 

Malcolm shook his head and scratched the side of his chin. "This has got to be a message of some kind." He said. "Posterity, a warning, a show-off, the killer wants- no needs to get some kind of message across." 

"Chase them off." Gil said told a field officer as curious onlookers started to gather. "Edrisa, get your team and take these heads to the morgue."

The woman nodded and pushed her glasses up on her nose before setting off to do just that. 

"Where's Dani?" Malcolm asked. 

"She's at the precinct searching up on our victims." Gil told him. 

Malcolm nodded and looked back at the heads. "There might be more victims if our killer hasn't made their point yet." 

JT frowned. "Could be gangs." 

"Is this run-of-the-mill for gang violence?" Gil asked. 

"Gangs can be rough." 

"But cults are unpredictable." Malcolm chimed in. 

Both Gil and JT looked at him, the same thought running through all three of their minds:

'Please let Malcolm Bright be wrong. Just this once.'

\-----

Date: February 9th, 2005  
Time: 02:06:36 p.m.  
Location: Special Crimes Unit NYPD

"Well, good news is," Dani started. "It's not a cult. Our boys, Curtis, Jacob and Marcus were in a gang back in middle school." 

JT looked relieved. He usually was a down-to-earth kind of guy, but he did not meddle in the affairs of the superstitious or supernatural, and in his eyes, cults were one in the same. 

"They were in a gang called, 'Ruthless'," The detective went on. "They were just usual, reckless teenagers with misdemeanors here and there. Stealing candy, soda, a few fights in the park- that is, until two years ago Curtis West was found with a woman's body in his apartment." 

Malcolm shifted his weight and furrowed his brows, already mulling over a revenge motive. 

"However, charges were dropped when Curtis was found to be out-of-state at the time of the murder. The killer was caught sometime later after fingerprints identified him as Andre Lakemore, the fourth and final member of 'Ruthless'."

"Where is Andre now?"

"Andre died three months ago in prison. He was stabbed during lunch and bled out in the cafeteria." 

"Any spouses, siblings, cousins?" Gil asked. 

"Andre did have a girlfriend at the time. Rachelle Vasquez." 

"Interview her." 

"Rachelle is currently staying with her grandmother in Arizona." Dani said. "She moved out there when Andre got arrested. Her alibi checks out."

Gil sighed heavily. "Just one dead end after another." 

"Maybe there won't be any more bodies. You did say the Ruthless gang was all accounted for, right?" JT asked. 

"But that doesn't mean it's all over." Gil said. "There's something else connecting these murders." 

"There has to be." Malcolm said, walking up to the board to get a closer view. 

"Well, I'll go and check their school records, see if there was some kind of rivalry at the school." Dani said with a nod. 

Gil nodded. "JT, you come with me, we have to deal with the press outside. A few photos of the heads were leaked." 

The detective nodded and went after Gil, leaving Malcolm to stare at the board by himself.

\----

Date: February 10th, 2005  
Time: 07:20:56 a.m.  
Location: Special Crimes Unit NYPD

"Hey, JT-!" Malcolm chimed, seemingly coming in from nowhere and disturbing the detective as he prepared to start his day, having just sat at his desk. 

"Yes?" 

"Mr. Grayson, owner of the pub," Malcolm said. "did he ever have issues with other kids aside from you?" 

JT raised his brows. "Yeah, uh... He didn't like anyone who ran down the sidewalk, or caused any kind of chaos, even just stuff like tag." 

"Did he ever have trouble with gangs?" 

JT looked as if in deep thought, then he glanced up at Malcolm, wide eyed and the other man smiled broadly. 

"Let's go get this man." JT said, standing up quickly and slipping on his jacket. 

\-----  
Date: February 10th, 2005  
Time: 09:34:06 a.m.  
Location: J-Pub Pitches 'n Pitchers The door to the front of J-Pub was locked tight when Malcolm and JT showed up that morning. "Probably not here yet." JT told him. Malcolm took a step back from the door and looked around, checking out the building's foundations. "This place shouldn't have a basement." "It doesn't." The profiler pointed to another staircase, one that was mostly obscured by the entrance to another underground apartment. "It does now."

Both investigators followed that staircase, noticing a growing puddle of frost that seemed to permeate from under the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. 

JT drew his pistol as they approached the door. Malcolm reached out to pull on the door handle. With all the quote en quote 'luck', in the world, it was found to be open. A gust of cool air rushed out at them.

"Miss Elsie?!" JT called out as they entered the darkened room. "Mister Grayson?!" 

"We need to speak with you again! Just a few questions!" Malcolm added, his voice echoing in the room just as JT's had. 

Suddenly, there was the sound of a powertool and judging by the consistent whirring and whining of it, Malcolm knew it was a bonesaw. 

"JT look out-!" He shouted, pulling the man by the coat, away from the sound. 

Somewhere in the shadows, a woman cried out in horror. 

JT shouted, aiming his gun at the moving shadow that stood opposite the woman's screams. "Stop it right there, NYPD police!" 

"Another little hoodlum!" A man shouted, rushing from the shadows at JT, weilding the bonesaw in his hands with an absolutely wild look upon his face. 

The detective reacted and fired his gun, and everything seemed to freeze when the tiny bulb in the corner of the basement went out.

\----

Date: February 10th, 2005  
Time: 02:57:23 p.m.  
Location: Special Crimes Unit NYPD

"Glad to see you got out okay." Dani said, patting the shoulder of Detective Tarmel

"Barely." JT huffed, drinking a cup of tea, trying to wind down after all that had happened. 

Mr. Matthias Grayson, aged sixty-two, was officially arrested and charged with the murder of three black men. He was currently being watched over at the hospital after hitting his head on the porcelain floor of the cooler he and Miss Elsie had been in when Malcolm and JT showed up. As it turns out, Mr. Grayson had gone off his medicine earlier that month and delusions caused by a sudden loss of the addictive medicines caused him to lose his sense of reality. 

Seeing the same faces who stole from him as teenagers, reminded him of the dislike he felt toward those three boys. In his deluded and deranged mind, murder was a reaction to permanently fix that which was wronged.

Miss Elsie had died of a heart attack when JT's gun went off, her COPD caused further complications. The bullet was found lodged in the wall of the cooler.

JT was given a few weeks off and took them happily. 

Malcolm was too, offered the same, but he turned it down in his usual Malcolm Bright style. 

"Why don't you go home, Malcolm?" Gil asked. "Get some rest?"

"You know me, Gil, on to another case." Malcolm replied. 

"Well," The lieutenant shrugged and waved a hand as he walked away. "let me know if you need a hand." 

Malcolm perked up a bit. "I knew you couldn't resist!"


End file.
